Brotherhood in Rapture
by Kalkus
Summary: One of my on-going stories. Based upon an slightly alternitive take on the game, possibly during it's war or after the conflict. Constructive criticism appreciated and welcome!
1. Prologue

The dark rusted interior of this hellish underwater-borne city was only illuminated by the occasional functional lamp, maybe by the faint light that seemed to almost...crawl through the tiny cracks in the great city's many-metre thick glass-dome. A beautiful, if rather eerie greenish-light bluish light gave way to the darkness below its unreachable cover, the below streets lit by far and few between operational standing lamps, a few functioning neon lights.

It was obvious nature was trying, with millennia-old practice, to re-claim the halls, the domed city's interior, it was not Atlantis, not quite yet in terms of it's demise, but one day, the whole city would succumb to the very stuff it's simple existence mocked so much.

The flickering of a cold-blue light, emanating from a old rusted standing lamp in the below streets, illuminated a old street, a few optimistic advertisement stands on the shorter buildings here, some few artificially vocalised, the sound of a young girl announcing how her dear daddy was so strong and so intelligent, and that, with cute optimism, none would be as strong or as intelligent as he; unless any would-be listeners visited some peaceful sounding garden.

The failing light was rendered absolute anyhow, by the odd cyan-coloured torchlight of a moving diver's suit, heavy footsteps resounded into the dark recesses of this unholy defiance to nature's wraith.

It moved as quietly as one could, the occasional splashes of pooled standing water in this deserted, rusted and metallic street hardly concealed the moving thing's presence, bright blue light moved to illuminate whatever the tall, slender and diving suited creature looked at, it hunched over and hid behind a rusting car, dry crimson spray over the boot of the wounded vehicle, no door to conceal a filthy interior.

The diving suited creature a odd dark metallic rifle brought to bear, just over the lip or rim of the smashed vehicle's bonnet, the underside of the dark armoured arms scratching against crusted red. The rifle resembled something like a dark brown, long barrelled shotgun, with a six-holed magazine akin to a hand-held revolver pistol.

Another two figures advanced from further down the street, their heavy metallic footfalls occasionally muffled by the splashes of water, similar to the previous and first, took cover by the vehicle, cyan lights permitting from mounted bright blue orbs illuminated their watched surroundings, one with a spear gun, one with a odd-looking large rifle, cylinder tanks mounted on the back of the heavily armoured suit.

A faint rustle from a adjacent alleyway had the trio point their rifles, quiet and guttural voices occurred from the three apparent warriors, one moved to by a pilled supporting a rusted mess of a building, the building's above floors extended just over the side walk of the dark streets.

Helmet and shoulder mounted cyan lights were gracefully pointed into the alleyway, revealing little more than a suspiciously tipped over trashcan. It only meant one thing, and it was glaringly confirmed when hastened footsteps occurred throughout the alleyways, adjacent to the small squad's position.


	2. Ambush

AMBUSH

The un-certain sounds of the surrounding pattering of many feet brought the trio of diving-suit warriors to crouch and take aim, the flamethrower took up position beside the pillars nearest to a alleyway entrance, near a large front-store window. The lead rifleman took aim from their cover behind the smashed vehicle; the third of the small party took up position beside a damaged mechanical vendor, creating a ad-hoc defensive ring around the vulnerable group.

Each cyan glow-globe mounted on the warrior's heads and shoulders gave harsh and decisive illumination, to the otherwise dark corridors in this dead, demented and underwater-borne city. Failing neon lights lit the street at irregular intervals, giving cover to the deranged sounds of movements in the adjacent alleyways, faint words coming from the genetically disgraced lips of those that turned themselves into the monsters they are...

And the monsters that threatened to overwhelm the smaller squad present here.

Guttural metallic yet quiet voices emitted from the trio, each armed with a weapon capable of killing their targets with ease, and breaking the morale of nearby foes, especially the flame-thrower, but these foes were the insane and the demonic. Nothing would break a demented citizen's willpower in this once-bustling metallic hell-hole.

It all happened all so suddenly.

Three Splicers charged towards the road from the alleyway - that was soon turned into a horrible display of pyromachanics and a screaming inferno of bodies and detritus, as due to the flamethrower's near-instant reactions. A killing zone was immediately established, the lead trooper hailed the flaming and screeching bodies with a quick salvo of two bolts from the spear gun, impaling one Splicer in the neck, and ripping the head off another. The flamethrower set about further melting the third male pink-suited Splicer into molten slag and bubbling flesh.

The sudden burst of rage-empower sprinting from in front was cued by the footfalls of bare feet and tattered shoes, three younger females in once-dazzling dresses and business suits charged towards the defensive ring, all wielding a manner of weapons such as pipes and even a spent Tommy gun, two went down immediately, bolts jutting from the feminine Splicer's necks and heads, the bodies gracelessly dropped to form pools of their own, crimson red pools that were trampled in by the surviving third female.

The female suddenly leapt, half-shaft of a rake in the blotted hands as she cleared the vehicle, only to be propelled metres into the air by a well-placed spear-bolt to the chest, killing her within seconds of her crumpled form impacting with a harsh clump against the street's now-slick surface.

The ambush ended, apparently, as abruptly as it began, but the further pattering and trudging of limbs and demented voices rung into the night-like fog of the dead city, giving voice to the demise of this once-great metropolis.


End file.
